


The Dragon's Treasure

by MoiraColleen



Series: Two Ladies [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Bathing/Washing, Collars, Consensual captivity, F/F, Massage, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Submission, Possessiveness, Roleplay, non-sexual domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraColleen/pseuds/MoiraColleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dragon doesn't like anyone touching her hoard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon's Treasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thekaidonovskys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekaidonovskys/gifts), [Waruitenshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waruitenshi/gifts).



> [These](https://www.etsy.com/listing/192157053/color-tipped-silver-leaf-claws-set-of-5?ref=shop_home_active_21) are the talons I picture Marie wearing. I seriously want these.
> 
> The edits I was planning have spun themselves into another story altogether, so no changes after all.

* * *

Jenna stepped through the door to find herself facing a large wicker structure that rested directly on the floor. The object was about the size of a double bed, a sturdy, shallow basket with a honey-colored rim that rose in a high arc toward the back, piled to the brim with broad cushions. A length of chain was draped over the side, the visible end clipped to a metal ring anchored in the rim of the basket. Before the basket lay a plush rug worked with a design of a dragon in black silhouette.

 

Marie lay half on her side at the center of the nest, covered and surrounded by a pool of brilliant purple fabric. The Domme planted her hands on the cushions, rising to support her upper body on her arms, and fixed Jenna in place with an unblinking stare. Marie pushed herself fully upright and slid to the edge of the nest. She slowly and deliberately curled one hand over the rim; elegant claws of metal filigree tipped each finger. After giving Jenna time to take in the sight, Marie rose gracefully from the nest. The purple fabric resolved as she did so into a flowing nightgown of gauzy lace in scale-like patterns with a robe that fanned out from her arms like wings.

 

Jenna stood stock still as her Domme stalked forward, bare feet padding softly on the polished wooden floor. She hardly breathed while the Domme prowled around her, assessing every inch.

 

“You’ve been handled by someone else,” the Domme almost growled, hissing over the sibilants.

 

Jenna shivered for reasons that had nothing to do with the lingering chill from the rain that caught her on the way home. “It was my supervisor, and also a couple of new clients,” she confessed meekly. “My supervisor wanted to congratulate me on my work. She shook my hand and patted my shoulder. The clients shook my hand, too. I know they weren’t approved to touch me, but it’s not like I could tell them not to—they’re my bosses.”

 

“I know, I know, dear one.” Metal-clad fingertips combed through Jenna’s hair, sharp points lightly scraping her scalp. “Sometimes we have to bend the rules for social reasons. I can’t be angry with you for that. I’m proud of you for working so hard and making such a good impression. But…”

 

The Domme stepped around to face Jenna fully. Her left hand continued to soothe through Jenna’s hair, while the right slid down to cradle her face.

 

“We dragons are jealous creatures, my darling girl. Jealous and possessive. I don’t like other people touching what is mine. You are my treasure, _my_ precious treasure, and I will not have you tarnished by some stranger who doesn’t know how to appreciate you.

 

“Well, all fine jewelry needs a good cleaning now and then, especially after being handled.”

 

Marie went down on one knee and lifted Jenna’s right foot to slide off her shoe. The left soon followed its mate to rest beside the door. The Domme then rose and drew Jenna to stand beside the nest. Her hands moved to the buttons on Jenna’s blouse and undid them deftly, not at all hindered by the gleaming talons.

 

“Your supervisor patted your shoulder, you say? Meaning she touched your shirt. Contamination.” The Domme slipped the unfastened shirt off Jenna’s shoulders and deposited it into a fabric hamper behind the nest, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “You must not touch it again until I have washed it. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, Marie,” Jenna replied obediently.

 

The Domme flashed Jenna an approving smile. She gently, methodically stripped Jenna of her rain-damp clothing until she stood bare but for her collar and a light blush, feet buried in the thick of the rug by the nest.

 

“Kneel,” the Domme commanded. Jenna complied at once settling her clasped hands in her lap. The Domme clipped the free end of the chain to the D-ring on Jenna’s collar. She brushed a light kiss upon Jenna’s forehead, squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, and padded away to another room behind the nest.

 

The rug under Jenna’s knees was soft and warm, but the faintest draft from under the outer door raised gooseflesh on her still chilled skin. No matter; her Domme would make sure to get her warm soon enough. Jenna closed her eyes to focus on the sound of her Domme moving about in the next room, turning on the taps to fill the bathtub. The pop of a plastic lid brought a delighted smile to Jenna’s face—bubbles were a special treat.

 

Eventually, the running water ceased, and soft footsteps heralded the Domme’s return. A warm hand caressed Jenna’s cheek, then glided down to the chain that tethered her. Jenna opened her eyes as the Domme unhooked the chain from the nest, grasping it like a leash in one hand and proffering the other to help Jenna to her feet. Jenna’s tired legs protested a little at being made to move after her day’s work, but she willingly followed her Domme into a room tiled in soothing shades of blue, where a claw-foot bathtub filled almost to overflowing with warm water and white foam stood waiting.

 

Jenna whimpered involuntarily when the Domme unfastened her collar and set it aside. The Domme shushed her, murmuring soothingly, “I know, but you’ll have it back in a little while. We mustn’t wet the leather, my sweet girl.”

 

The Domme held Jenna’s arm to steady her as she stepped into the bath. The temperature was perfect, just on the bearable side of too hot, as Jenna liked it. The mountains of foam split into cliff walls around her and closed over every bit of her that was submerged. She settled back with a contented sigh, feeling the warmth seep into her very bones.

 

Marie sat on a low stool beside the tub. She set aside her metal talons for the moment and spent a few long minutes just watching her girl luxuriate in the bath, smiling at the look of bliss on Jenna’s face. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them when at last the Domme lowered a washcloth into the bath to wet it.

 

Jenna looked up to see her Domme’s coffee-dark face framed by walls of white bubbles that rose all around Jenna’s head. The Domme smiled affectionately and raised the cloth in invitation. Jenna sat up to receive a thorough cleansing from head to toe. She still blushed a bit when her Domme pushed the concealing bubbles aside to reach her more intimate areas, but the other woman’s touch spoke of nothing but care and respect, and Jenna’s embarrassment soon faded into a languorous tranquility composed of relaxing warmth and chaste intimacy.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually, the bath came to an end. Marie switched the water to run through the detachable showerhead and tested the temperature on her own forearm before encouraging Jenna to stand and let her rinse the foam from her skin. The air in the bathroom felt cool after the heat of the water, but Jenna had no time to feel chilled; as soon as she stepped from the tub, her Domme wrapped her in a large grey towel and settled her onto the stool. Jenna snuggled into the plush terrycloth while her Domme gently toweled her hair dry. Next, Marie drew Jenna to her feet once more to dry her limbs and torso. She didn’t return the towel afterward. Rather, she slipped her metal talons back on, replaced Jenna’s collar, and used the chain to guide her nude submissive out of the bathroom.

 

Jenna obediently followed her Domme back to the nest. All her earlier self-consciousness seemed to have been washed away in the bath, and now she only felt comfortable and drowsy. Marie pressed Jenna into a seated position at the front of the nest while she re-attached the long chain to the rim, then guided her to lie back on the cushions.

 

“Now, all the contamination from those others is cleaned away,” the Domme commented. “Are you feeling better now, sweetheart?”

 

Jenna nodded sleepily. Then she caught herself and answered, “Yes, Marie.”

 

The Domme stroked the side of Jenna’s face. “Good. My perfect treasure should always feel clean. All that’s left is to give you a proper polish to protect you until next time.” She reached into the gap between the cushions and the wicker and pulled out a bottle of massage oil. Marie worked the stopper loose, and the fresh, light scent of lavender wafted to Jenna’s nose.

 

The Domme tipped a generous amount of oil into her palm. She rubbed her hands together to spread the oil over them and to warm it, then laid her hands on Jenna’s soft skin, still pink from the bath, and gradually worked her way down her submissive’s body. The tips of the Domme’s metal talons lightly teased Jenna’s skin in delicious contrast to the softness of her palms. Jenna hummed happily and stretched out beneath her Domme’s hands, all but purring under the attention. By the time Marie reached her feet, Jenna was nearly asleep, but she roused willingly to turn over and let her Domme tend to her back.

 

When the last of the oil had been absorbed by Jenna’s skin, Marie slipped into the nest behind her. The Domme spread her robe as wide as she could and then drew Jenna to lie in her arms, enveloping her in the wing-like folds. They lay down together, Jenna’s head pillowed on Marie’s arm. The sharp talons on the Domme’s other hand carded carefully through Jenna’s hair.

 

“Much better,” the Domme murmured. “Go to sleep, my perfect, pristine jewel. I will always keep you safe and well, my beautiful treasure.”

 

“I like being a dragon’s treasure,” Jenna confided, drifting off. “Dragons should have treasure that can appreciate them back.”

 

Marie pressed a kiss to the crown of Jenna’s head. “Why other dragons want lifeless metal, I’ll never know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I read a fic a while back in which no one other than the Dom was allowed to touch the sub, with the exception of a very few trusted servants. I've become enamoured of the idea of being the only one permitted to touch a sub, by the sub's own wish as well as my own, but of course, there are aspects of life that prevent that from being entirely possible.
> 
> One concern, of course, is that I wouldn't want to cut a submissive off from the support of friends and family, or make her feel guilty due to instances of contact she can't avoid, like those Jenna experienced at work.
> 
> This fic stems in part from my contemplation of the matter, ideas on how to balance the desire for exclusive contact and the emotional needs and necessities of social interaction. It occurred to me that, while I can't reasonably expect a submissive partner to avoid all physical contact with others, I _can_ , with her consent, set limits on which known individuals such as friends and family members are allowed to touch her, and I can symbolically cleanse her to reestablish my claim after unavoidable violation.
> 
> Hopefully, this makes sense to someone besides me.


End file.
